


The Mess You've Made

by cat_scratch_club



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sherlock being adorable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:34:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_scratch_club/pseuds/cat_scratch_club
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is a barista working in a busy cafe. He absolutely loathes his job - that is, until he meets John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh, Sherlock

Sherlock looked up distractedly from the latte he was preparing as he heard the faint tinkle of the bell on the door. Great, he thought. Another customer. Friday mornings were hectic; the coffee shop was jam packed with harried business people who needed their coffees fast. And, of course, Anderson just had to pick the busiest day of the week to take a "sick" day. Sherlock snorted at the thought. If Anderson was truly ill, then Sherlock was the queen of England. Any idiot with half a brain could deduce why he was playing hooky. The way he'd parted his hair the day before made it quite clear he was having an affair. Typical, of course...

Sherlock was shaken out of his reverie when a blond man standing at the counter flashed him a brilliant smile. For once, Sherlock was flustered. 

"Welcome to Bakery Street Beans. How may I help you this morning?" he stammered, brushing a stray curl from his face.

The man played with the hem of his jumper as an easy grin played on his lips. "Just a coffee for me. Espresso, I think."   
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Long night, huh?" he asked.   
The nameless blond sighed, running a hand through his cropped hair. "Yeah. There was a crash down on Main. We had loads of people coming in."

Sherlock felt an unexpected rush of relief flood his body. His stomach had clenched when the stranger noted that he had had a long night. A few thoughts of this man writhing in a bed with someone else was...disconcerting. Knowing that the man had merely been working was somehow comforting. Sherlock was just passing the man his coffee when his hand slipped, spilling hot coffee all over both of them. 

"I...I'm so sorry..." he sputtered, fumbling for some napkins as a few customers who had been waiting in line behind them heaved sighs of impatience.

The man just began to calmly blot out the spreading mess. "Don't worry about it. I'm John," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

Sherlock tentatively grasped his hand. "Sherlock." He glanced in the back where Molly was preparing some baked goods for the lunch crowd that would arrive over the following hours. "Molly? Can you take the register? I have a situation here."

Molly came to the front, tucking her mousy brown hair behind her ear as she tended to the next customer in line.   
Off to the side, Sherlock was busy trying to undo some of the damage the steaming coffee had caused to both of their outfits. "I'm so, so sorry," Sherlock repeated, blushing. "This never happens to me. And with you going through a divorce and all..."

John recoiled, surprised. "My...divorce? How did you know about that? I haven't even told anyone yet."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Well, isn't it obvious?" he asked, puzzled. "I can tell from your ring finger and the way you carry yourself."

John smiled a little despite himself. "That's fantastic. You must show me how to do that sometime." He glanced at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Well, I've got to run. Call me some time. You can teach me."

Sherlock's cheeks reddened once again as he looked at his palm, where John had placed his business card. Before he could look up to say goodbye, the blonde had turned and walked out the door, leaving nothing but the faint sound of tinkling bells in his wake.


	2. After Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John meet again.

Sherlock's nimble fingers flipped the business card over and over as he contemplated his next move. He glanced at his cell phone, lying on the counter next to him. He barely glanced up with as the bell jangled. "We're closed," he snapped, not bothering to address the customer now standing in front of him. "Didn't you read the..." his words were cut off as he looked up.

"Sorry," the doctor apologized, a hint of a smile playing at the edges of his lips. "I just got off work. I was hoping for a little pick me up..." he trailed off, his gaze lingering on the business card Sherlock hastily tucked away in his apron.

"No, please," Sherlock mumbled. "It's the least I can do after the mess I made. It has been a little frantic around here...I just...my hand slipped. I'll be happy to pay the dry cleaning bill, if you'd like."

John winked. "Don't worry about that. All I need right now is a cup of java, if you've got it. No rest for the wicked, as they say. I'm off to view yet another potential flat with yet another potential flatmate..." he shook his head. "Sorry. 'M not really sure why I'm telling you all this."

Sherlock was surprised. "You're...looking for a flat? Really?"

John nodded apprehensively. "Yes, well, Mary said she wanted nothing to do with me, and I've been hotel hopping since, you know..."

Sherlock nodded, fascinated. "I...erm, I'm looking for a flatmate as well. I've got a flat in mind, and I worked out a deal with the landlady for a negotiated rate, but I was looking for someone to share it with. You wouldn't like to take a look, would you?"

John seemed to think for a moment. "Couldn't hurt. You seem like a nice enough fellow, if a bit...eccentric."  
Sherlock merely nodded, waving his hand. "Eccentric is what I'd consider putting it mildly. Most tend to use words like 'freak', and 'spaz'."

John's piercing blue eyes seemed to soften a little. "You shouldn't let them."

Sherlock hesitated. "Sorry. I shouldn't be bothering you with the story of my life. You just wanted a cup of coffee."

John waved him off. "Don't worry about it. I'll come and get it some other time. But do, in fact, call me. I'd like to look at that flat you have in mind, if that's all right."

Sherlock nodded, smiling shyly. "It's more than all right. I mean, it's..." he was flustered, at a loss for what to say as he fiddled with the business card again. He looked up again, but John was gone, once again leaving without coffee and leaving nothing behind but the smell of freshly washed cotton sweaters and the soft, resonating tinkling of a bell.


End file.
